


Inevitable

by acosmist_t



Series: Draco Malfoy One Shots [10]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Battle of Hogwarts, F/M, Hogwarts, Implied/Referenced Torture, Light Angst, POV Draco Malfoy, Pining Draco Malfoy, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:01:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28275000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acosmist_t/pseuds/acosmist_t
Summary: Six times Draco Malfoy almost said he loved you and the one time he did
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Series: Draco Malfoy One Shots [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2020781
Comments: 3
Kudos: 100





	Inevitable

**Author's Note:**

> Word Count: 2.4k
> 
> Warnings: yearning, obsession, torture but not detailed, a touch of angst but happy end

**_i. inception_ **

The carriage was silent as the Hogwarts Express carried the students home.

The year had been interesting, to say the least, and Draco was glad it was over. Though, he was sure the list of interesting things that came with Harry Potter was far from done.

He stared at you from across the seats, smiling lightly at seeing you so absorbed in your book. Since you were just small children, he had loved to watch you read; your face lit up in fascination at every turn of the page, and your eyes raved hungrily over the words.

He wondered if that’s the same way he looked right now.

You had been best friends for too long, and he could never imagine his life without you in it. You were a constant, and at just eleven years old, he wanted you to know that. It was the best way to make sure you never left him.

“Hey.” He reached his leg out to push yours, drawing your attention.

“Yeah?” you responded, not looking up from your book. The only sign you were actually listening was the slight turning of your head, ready to half-hear what he was about to say.

But you still didn’t look up.

That’s what stopped him. _Too soon_ , Draco told himself. He would tell you another time, later on; right now, you were too enraptured to hear his honesty. Hell, you’d probably laugh if he said it, especially in front of all your friends.

“Nothing,” he resolved to say, shaking himself of his idea. It was stupid.

This time you did look up. “Are you sure?”

Draco smiled comfortingly. “Yes, it was nothing. Nothing at all.”

**_ii. contrition_ **

He was running through the corridor, desperate to get to the hospital wing.

You weren’t supposed to get hurt, it was only supposed to be the Mudbloods, never you.

Yet here he was, fumbling through the door and straight towards the bed you were laying in, petrified. There was ink staining the hems of your robes, almost like you had dropped the bottle and it shattered at your feet.

Draco sat down in the chair beside your bed, ignoring Pomfrey standing just a few feet away, and took your hand.

It had never felt so cold.

The words almost came out again—no, not ‘came out’—they almost _burst_ out. They had been bubbling inside him for too long, and the idea that he had never told you how much you meant to him was terrifying.

It always came in surges. Huge feelings of emotion that filled him at once. It happened with all his friends, but you the most. Because you were his favorite friend, and his most important one.

He came so close to saying it, because what if you never woke up—what would he do then?

But no, he wouldn’t say it.

The only time Draco Malfoy would say those words were when he knew you would hear him, and when he knew it was so important. Those were three words that he had never said to anyone that wasn’t his family, and he would be damned if he threw them around carelessly now.

He would wait until just the right moment.

**_iii. ludus_ **

The sun was bright, beating against the back of Draco’s neck, even from his spot in the shade. He craved to go inside, but you liked it out here, so he would stay.

It was comfortable silence, and he couldn’t stop staring at the way you looked so alive in nature. Your eyes were brighter, your skin warmer, your hair shinier. It was dizzying how pretty you looked.

That’s the only way he thought to describe it. _Pretty_.

As always, you were lost in a book, back resting against the trunk of the tree you both were sitting under. Draco was always wondering how words on a page could have such an effect on you, but it didn’t matter how many times you explained it, he never understood.

 _It’s like being with your favorite person—you don’t realize you had spent so long together until the day had already ended. I don’t realize I’m even reading until I turn the last page_.

You gave him the same explanation every time, but it never took.

He wished he could lose his focus on reality like that, but the only thing that ever came close was you. It felt wrong, but he could stare at you for hours and never get bored of it. Sunlight made you stand out and moonlight made you shine; nothing took away your brilliance.

He wanted to tell you that. So badly. He wanted to say so many things to you—he had even practiced an entire speech—but something always stopped him.

It almost tasted like fear.

Did he fancy you? Is that what it was? Because you were his friend, you had always been his friend, nothing more. But sometimes you invaded his thoughts for days, and all he could think about was your hand brushing against his, or the curve of your lips whenever you smiled at him.

It was addicting.

But he couldn’t tell you. Not yet.

He would know when the moment was right.

**_iv. infatuation_ **

You were stunning in your dress, and it reminded Draco a little bit of starlight.

Yes, that was it: stars.

The moon was a loyal companion, but you always shined brighter—made everything feel a little less broken and a little more radiant.

You were the tiny dots poked through a tapestry of black, letting the light in. And he loved you for it.

He could say that full-heartedly now—he loved you.

His thoughts of you crossed the line of platonic a long time ago, and he only wondered if yours did the same. He wanted to be close to you, to feel you in his arms and know that his arms would be the only ones you’d ever occupy.

The thing that stopped him, however, was the fact that you hadn’t gone to the Yule Ball with him. No, you had gone with some faceless Gryffindor in the year above. And Draco felt ill every time that stupid Gryffindor laid a finger on you.

He also felt anger, deep and unending.

You were supposed to be with him. Draco wanted you to choose him, and no one else.

So, he wouldn’t tell you. Not until those same stars aligned and you finally decided that you wanted Draco in the same way he wanted you.

**_v. lucidity_ **

You had chosen someone else. Again.

And worse, that someone else had been Potter.

It was rage that Draco felt this time. Rage because not only had he not been your first choice, but because your first choice had been his enemy. And that wasn’t fair—you were Draco’s match, his equal, and he wanted you to know that.

You had become a part of his dreams. No, that wasn’t right—you _were_ his dreams. Dancing with you, talking with you, kissing you. You were everything and the only thing he had ever wanted.

He thought of you often—too often to be healthy. All Draco craved to know was that you felt even an ounce of what he felt, because just an ounce was enough for a lifetime.

What Draco felt for you lasted an eternity. _More_ than forever.

Nothing ever compared. So he had to find a distraction, someone else who could even come close to diverting his thoughts. And while it was a fruitless effort, he kept up that determination.

So, he danced with other girls, he talked with other girls, he kissed other girls. He made them to be his new dream, but even Draco couldn’t change his unconscious wishes. It was always you.

And when you returned from the Department of Mysteries, he almost told you right then and there. But the sight of blood on your face stopped him.

The blood, _your_ blood, was proof of your loyalties. And how could he declare love for the same person who fought against his own loyalty? Someone who had fought against his own family?

As much as it pained him, Draco had to choose his blood over yours. It hurt, but he had to.

Because to be a Malfoy was to lose desires and gain responsibilities in their place. He had rules, he had missions, and he could not let his family down.

So, no, he wouldn’t tell you he loved you. Because he would not even attempt to confirm a fantasy that would too quickly be reshaped into a lost cause.

Maybe one day the War would end and he would have unlimited time to tell you how he felt. But for now, he had a new task, and that meant that telling you how he felt would put you in unspeakable danger.

And a broken heart was well worth your own safety.

**_vi. implicit_ **

He woke up in the hospital.

There was blood staining his clothes, and he would’ve jumped away if he didn’t remember the Mark on his forearm. He couldn’t be exposed like that.

His eyes moved to his left forearm to see a bandage covering it already. It wasn’t done neatly like the other ones. This one seemed rushed. And also unlike the other ones, there was no pain there.

In fact, it felt completely unharmed. There was blood on the top of the bandage, staged so it seemed like it came from a cut underneath, but Draco knew there was no actual hurt marring him there.

That’s when he saw you. And that’s when he knew that you knew.

Draco had stayed away from you that whole year, desperate for his feelings to ebb, but they never did. Instead of decrease, they only grew.

He still loved you.

Anger, glares, hurt—those were the things he expected. Tears, fear, horror—those too. But the look in your eyes wasn’t scared, only concerned. And the few tears that did fall weren’t of terror, only worry.

“Draco?” you croaked out slowly, voice sounding a little raw.

His heart sped up.

“Draco, it’s me. You’re okay.” You were talking to him, and you slowly reached out a hand to hold his left one.

He wanted to pull away. You were too bright, too _good_ , to ever be near something so damning. You needed light, not darkness.

“Was it you?” he asked, lifting his left arm barely an inch, just enough for you to know what he was referring to.

“I knew. The whole time, I knew.”

“And you didn’t care?” His entire body was trembling. He was the scared one, not you.

“How could I?”

That’s what broke him, and the next thing he knew, _Draco_ was the one sobbing, still not you. You only gripped his hand tighter, and that’s when he understood.

He was in love with you, completely and wholly bewitched.

But he wouldn’t tell you.

Draco was too dark, too twisted, too misaligned to tie you to him. He knew you would do anything for him, anything at all, and he couldn’t have that happen. You deserved to live a life worth dying for, not live a life that would too quickly lead you to an unjust death.

So, he wouldn’t tell you.

Perhaps he never would.

**_vii. ultimate_ **

The Battle was just as bad as he had predicted: bloody and scathing.

All Draco knew was that he needed to keep you safe. No matter the consequences, no matter the risk, you were his priority. You came above his allegiance.

He would cross any lines to keep you safe.

And when the Dark Lord called his name to join his side, Draco listened.

Harry Potter was dead, there was no recovering from this. But before he followed the Lord, he turned back to you to say it. It was time; he had spent too long in the dark.

But the way you looked at him now made him pause. The tears in your eyes for your fallen hero made him pause.

He wouldn’t condemn you to that. He wouldn’t force that guilt out of you. He would join his parents and do whatever he had to when the Dark Lord’s reign became fully instated.

Things changed, however, because Harry Potter was alive. And the next thing Draco knew, he was back to fighting, and this time, his allegiance was switched.

He was supporting Potter, and he only was doing it for you.

It was just as bloody as before, if not more so, and he had to dodge crumbling walls and missed spells on all sides. But he needed to find you, needed to be by your side through it all.

Your scream shocked him to his core. He knew you, in every way, shape, and form, and your scream was enough to send him sprinting in a new direction, no matter what awaited him when he got there. Draco had never run so fast in his life.

What hurt more than he expected was to see his father was the one torturing you, shooting the Cruciatus Curse over and over at your sobbing body. And Draco didn’t think as he disarmed his father, as he shot his own Cruciatus.

He would never kill his father, that he wasn’t capable of, but he could come close, come to the very edge of death. But only for you. Only because he would return that favor for you.

His father’s screams were loud, but still faint compared to yours still etched in his head. And after long enough, he dropped his wand and fell to his knees beside you.

Once again, Draco expected betrayal, fear, anger. But he was only presented with that same concern, and, dare he say it...love?

Cheering from the side he was now fighting for, from the _good side_ , was enough to tell him all he needed to know. That they had won, that the Dark Lord was defeated, and that perhaps the Mark inked onto his arm wasn’t as powerful as it once seemed.

“I love you.”

He said it. He uttered the words he had held in since he was eleven years old. And it came out a modest declaration. There was no pomp, no circumstance, just three simple words strong enough to convey every thought he had ever held for you.

And then he repeated it. Over and over and over.

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You looked at him curiously, carefully. There was potential for rejection, but he would never be ashamed, never regret that he had come clean. He had spent too much time waiting for ‘the right moment’.

And the words you replied with were better than anything Draco had ever considered, had ever dreamed.

“It’s about time.”

Then, you pulled him forward and kissed him, only for a handful of seconds, and broke just to say, “I love you, too.”


End file.
